


Very Belated Birthday

by GuardianofFun



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Birthday Presents, Comfort No Hurt, M/M, description of illness, light malcolm wump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 13:29:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12059967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuardianofFun/pseuds/GuardianofFun
Summary: Trip feels bad that they had to miss Malcolm's birthday, so he throws a very belated celebration instead.





	Very Belated Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> written because I forgot Malcolm's birthday because I'm awful like that. I had toremedy that by writing something soft and sappy for him. I am aware that now I've written two birthday fics for this man but I can't help it i love him a lot????

Trip felt the smile creep across his face as he finally reached the door to his room. It had been a long day of realigning warp cores and purging impulse manifolds all over the place, but his work was not over yet. There was a twinge in his back that just screamed for a hot shower, but before he could jump in he had a few things to prepare. He hurried into his quarters, grabbing the PADDs he had prepared in advance and the two packages he had kept hidden under his bed for months now. He commed Chef, then Phlox, all while digging out one of the Starfleet issued satchels. He threw in the Padd, carefully slid in the packages. There was an envelope on his desk that he placed alongside it, as well as a bottle he nicked from Chef for this very occasion. Then, with about ten minutes to go, he jumped into the shower. He let the hot jets soothe his back for all of five minutes before stumbling back into his room and pulling on his best (read, worst) shirt, and the nicest jeans he owned.

He made it to Malcolm’s quarters in under three minutes, and only slightly out of breath. He slammed a hand on the bell and waited, his good mood pulling his lips into a grin. There was a muffled grumble before Malcolm’s door slid open, and Trip congratulated himself on not smirking. 

“How’re you feeling Lieutenant?” he asked. Malcolm glared at him. He looked far from happy, indeed far from well. Eyes puffy, his  nose was red from rubbing which complimented the strange green patterns that had cropped up across his face. It almost looked as though someone had splattered him with paint, odd patches of light green decorated his face - as did a scowl. 

“Absolutely shit, Commander,” he said, turning his back on Trip and throwing himself onto his bed in a huff. 

“Hey,” Trip said in what he hoped was a comforting tone. “At least Phlox says you’re not contagious anymore!” Malcolm all but hissed at him. 

He had been on an away team to a rather friendly planet, and of course when the local wildlife had given the entire team a virus that had them all coming out in a dusting of green splodges, Malcolm had been hit the hardest. Phlox said something about his allergy medication reacting badly to the treatment their alien hosts had offered caused him to be bedridden for slightly longer and so Malcolm had spent the past four days in decon. All their plans for the beginning of September had been thrown out of the airlock as the lieutenant had been too busy coughing up a lung to properly celebrate his birthday.

Now though, Trip intended to remedy that. He followed Malcolm to the bed and sat opposite him. Malcolm pushed his pillows back so that he could lean up against the wall and gave Trip a rueful smile at last. 

“I suppose that’s something,” he said lightly. His eyes darted to the bag Trip had placed between them. “And what’s this?” Trip rubbed his hands together gleefully, and reached over for the zipper. 

“Well seein’ as your birthday was kinda… a disaster, I thought we’d celebrate it now instead. Just me ‘n you?” His boyfriend nodded slowly. 

“That does sound better than a surprise party in the mess hall.” Trip’s face snapped into a frown. 

“Hey! How did you-” Malcolm laughed, a sound that still set Trip’s heart aflutter. 

“You can’t honestly expect the ship’s security officer not to know exactly what’s happening onboard, can you?” The engineer huffed. 

“You,” he said waving an accusatory finger, “Are no fun Mr. Reed. For that,” he opened the bag and pulled out the bottle of brandy he had packed and cradled it to his chest. “You ain’t having any of my brandy.” Malcolm threw his head back and gasped.

“Oh how you  _ wound  _ me Mr. Tucker.” 

Annoyingly, Trip found he couldn’t keep up the angry look, and instead leant over to plant a light kiss on Malcolm’s cheek.

“You know I hate it when y’go all damsel in distress on me,” he murmured. This close he could see Malcolm’s neck move as he laughed. Trip pulled back, but found himself sitting a lot closer to Malcolm now, something neither of them minded very much. He grabbed the bag and pulled it closer. He dug around for a moment before pulling out the envelope. 

“Happy belated birthday Malcolm.” He handed it over and watched as Malcolm’s delicate (if somewhat green) fingers slid under the paper to pull it open. In the low light of the room, Malcolm had to twist to read it, turning away towards the lamp on the desk. Trip wriggled to fill the space behind him - not at all a tactic to get Malcolm cuddled up against him though. He leant back and watched as, just as planned, a blush crept up his boyfriend’s neck. He leant forward and kissed at Malcolm’s nape, and felt him shiver slightly. 

“Charles Tucker,” Malcolm said in a quiet voice. “You have to be the sappiest person I know,” he said, finally turning around. The small smile on his face made Trip tingle all the way down to his toes. “I love you too,” Malcolm added. It was as though someone had turned the grav plating off, because Trip felt lighter than air. Even with the remains of his symptoms smattered across his face, and his hair unusually messy, he was breathtakingly gorgeous. 

Before he got too lost in Malcolm’s eyes or something equally as cliche, Trip broke his gaze and turned his attention towards the bag. 

“Got you a present too,” he mumbled, feeling his own cheeks warm. Malcolm inched closer, so the two of them sat pressed together as Trip pulled a thin rectangle from the bag, wrapped in a dark blue paper. 

Propping himself up on an elbow, Malcolm began working at the corner, tugging at the paper with all the precision he’d use to reassemble a phase pistol. As he pulled the paper away, something landed on the bed between them with a soft flutter. A thin collection of pages Malcolm realised, as he picked it up - a comic. 

“What’s this?” he asked as he began thumbing through the few pages. There was a smirk forming at the corner of his mouth so Trip kissed it away before answering. 

“Superman,” he said simply. “My favourite one.” Malcolm chuckled. 

“All that subtext layered on subtext? Are you trying to tell me something Mr. Tucker?” Trip grinned. 

“I thought I’d been pretty clear with my intentions, the comic was just to wind ya up.” He stretched a hand to pull out another parcel, considerably heavier this time, sighing as he did so. 

“Didn’t even get me a smarmy comment, I don’t know Malcolm, you’ve disappointed me.” A sock covered toe jabbed him in the leg.

“I reserve the right to make my smarmy comments later,” Malcolm said, pressing the comic to his chest. His voice became a little softer. “Thank you for this. Parting with it couldn’t have been easy. I’ll cherish it.” His face had flushed again and Trip didn’t think it was entirely down to the virus. Handing him the larger package, he let his fingers linger on Malcolm’s for a moment. 

“Well you’ll just have to let me come over and read it sometime.” Malcolm nodded at him, then straightened as he began to tear at the paper on the second gift. It took him a few moments, in which Trip pulled him onto his lap so that he could watch the proceedings over his shoulder. 

He paused for a moment as his fingers closed around what he assumed was a book and with a quick pause, he dropped the wrapping. A smooth hardback, the art on the faded with age, though the gold lettering still stood out against the weathered red background. Malcolm let out a low whistle. 

“Oh Trip… do I even want to know how you got ahold of this?” He asked as he looked over at him, face sober but eyes twinkling. 

“I have my ways,” Trip said smugly, giving him a squeeze. “S’not a first edition if that makes you feel any better, I’m not  _ that  _ good.” Malcolm nodded, letting his smile finally creep across his face. 

“Still, a copy of the Philosopher's Stone that has to be at least one hundred and fifty years old,” he twisted in Trip’s arms so the two of them sat against the wall, legs entwined and book pressed between them.

“Thank you, I love it. And the comic.” His words punctuated with featherlight kisses. “You could give me anything Trip Tucker, and I would love it,” the next kiss came a little faster than the others, a little rougher. Trip let Malcolm shift so he lay cross him, enjoying the sensation of Malcolm’s hands as ran across his chest. One hand at the small of Malcolm’s back, he plucked the book form between them with the other and tucked it safely on the shelf beside them. Malcolm seemed to have forgotten the book for the moment, far too occupied with running his hands through Trip’s hair. 

It had been too long since the lieutenant had last been by his side, and after so long in isolation it was apparent Malcolm had missed him too. Trip was almost upset when the comm. Buzzed, until he remembered what stood on the other side. Slipping from the bed and leaving a breathless Malcolm confused, he crossed to the door. 

“What’s that?” he asked, voice deliciously husky. As he lifted a hand to hit the release, Trip replied with a smirk. 

“Dinner...” 

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!


End file.
